Page 6 of Deviant Desires

My paranoia from earlier is forgotten as I direct students to their places. It’s cocktail hour and people are finally starting to arrive. Everyone from the university is dressed in their finest. Many bring a card for the retiring Dean and I stare at the gift table as they start piling up. What are the chances that people wrote checks to the Dean? Staff members, valued alumni, and department heads that benefitted from his wisdom and grace. There have to be thousands of dollars accumulating on that table.

I didn’t grow up rich, but my family wasn’t poor, either. We lived a very middle-of-the-road life where we could afford to buy groceries, pay our bills, and splurge on fast food once a month. But I remember when my brother broke his arm in high school and things got tight for a little while. We didn’t have health insurance and the trip to the emergency room wiped out my parents’ savings account. I learned early on that we could be fine in the day-to-day, but an unexpected crisis could easily throw us into poverty.

I mimicked that lifestyle as I grew up. While my parents were able to afford to put away $5,000 each for the three of us to go to college, we had to take out student loans for the rest. In my spare time, I was working two jobs. During the weekdays, I was a waitress and on the weekends, I worked at a bar. The latter kept me from missing every single social event my friends attended.

I’ve learned to love who I am despite not having wealth and riches. When I was dating Mateo, he liked to spoil me. But after everything ended, I went back to taking care of myself. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous looking at all the finely dressed men and women. It would be dishonest to say that I looked at the gift table and never once thought about stealing a few envelopes to help take care of my bills next month.

“Miss Schelling.” My heart drops into my ass and my stomach flips over. I recognize that voice.

I slowly turn around, praying that I’m wrong.Please don’t be them. Please don’t be them.But my ears do not deceive me. A full 180 reveals the handsome, smiling faces of the Valentis that were supposed to be my brothers-in-law. “Hello,” I manage to squeak out between gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?” Does that sound accusatory?

Raniero is what his younger brothers will look like when they hit their forties. He carries himself with an inner confidence that draws every eye in the room to him. I heard that he got married within the last year; I wasn’t invited to the wedding for obvious reasons.

“We have personal ties with Dean Simon. In fact, we’re here at the behest of his granddaughter. Have you met her? Beautiful young woman, graduated last year from Yale law school, invited to one of the top practicing firms in New York City?” Raniero rattles off the facts with a cat ate the canary grin on his face.

I try to paste a smile on mine, but I can’t summon more than a grimace. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure to meet the Dean’s granddaughter.”

Raniero huffs a little laugh at me. “She’s quite stunning. Her educational background is phenomenal. Of course, Ididhelp her get into Yale. It was a personal favor for the Dean.”

I bet the Valentis don’t know what it’s like to worry about money. They don’t get sick and worry about taking a few days off work or going to the doctor. They aren’t worried about copays or deductibles. If they’ve got a little sniffle, they’re willing to pay for name-brand drugs to knock it out before it turns into a sinus infection. “I’m sure he’ll be excited to see you then. Please, grab a drink at the bar and—”

“How have you been?” Luca interrupts me. He steps forward to be even with his older brother. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around lately.”

I try to avoid the familiar haunts of the Valenti brothers. Mostly because I don’t want to run into Mateo, but I am not fond of hanging out with his family, either. When Mateo was awaiting trial, I received a handful of visits from the Valenti brothers demanding that I recant. Cesare was the most overly threatening. “I’ve been busy with work. Lots of events for the College of Business this year. Now if you’ll excuse—”

“You seeing anyone?” He interrupts again. When he sees the look of horror on my face, his grin broadens. “I only ask because you’re getting older, aren’t you? You’re what, 34? 36?”

He’s messing with me. I clench my jaw and try not to lash out. “I’m only 30, Luca, but thank you for the reminder. Where’s Mateo? In prison again or afraid to show his face?” I can’t keep the barb from coming out of my mouth. As much as I want to gracefully answer their questions and walk away with my head held high, I’m still me. I’m still a woman that had to stand before a jury and explain that her soon-to-be husband was a murderer. Of course, he got off because there was no body, but I still had to put myself in that position.

Luca’s smile turns into what I can only assume is deadly. The glint in his eye looks menacing and I swear I see him tighten his muscles beneath his suit jacket. “It’s cute that you care about him so much after sending him up the river.”

Sweat starts forming between my breasts. “I don’t care about—”

“I’m sure he’s going to be happy to hear that you asked about him. But don’t worry,” Luca winks, “if you want to find him so bad, I’m sure he’ll show up. He’s around here somewhere.”

I think I might start hyperventilating. There have been a lot of events that the Valenti brothers have shown up at. I’ve avoided them like the plague and managed to go unseen. But I thought that Mateo avoided those events because of me. I thought it was an unspoken truth.You don’t come to my parts of town and I won’t go to yours.As a result, I’ve stayed out of dimly lit restaurants, local bars, and anywhere that may remotely serve Italian food—with the exception of Olive Garden because Mateo told me that’s not real. “If you’ll excuse—”

Luca doesn’t let me finish a sentence. “You have a good night, Miss Schelling. I hope it’s everything you hoped it would be.”

Black spots start forming in my vision and I bow out of the conversation without a goodbye. I’m sure the pallor of my skin and the wild look in my eyes is off-putting to the guests I pass. I hear whispers in my wake, but I don’t care. I have to get out of here. I have to calm myself down.

I pass through a series of hallways making my way up from the reception hall where the event is being held to my office on the third floor. I take the stairs, hoping that the movement will help my head to stop spinning.Deep breaths,I coach myself. It’s like a whole different person telling me what to do to get out of here safely.You’re almost there.

The offices on the third floor are dark, the hallways are only lit up because there is an event happening downstairs. I punch my door code in and the door to my office opens. It feels like a weight off my shoulders to slam it shut behind me and lean up against the cold wood. “You’re fine, Bambi, you’re okay,” I whisper to myself. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you. It’s a party. We’re in public. I have a stun gun in my purse.” I give myself the pep talk of a lifetime. “Mateo wouldn’t try anything with all those people out there.”

Then I hear movement and a low, devious chuckle. My purse is downstairs somewhere. My nearest pepper spray is in the desk across the room. And the sight of someone’s body coming out of the shadows freezes me in place.

“Or would I?”

5

MATEO

When we arrive at the Dean’s retirement party, I see her from across the room. Bambi’s porcelain white skin could use a serious dose of vitamin D—whether that’s from the sun or my pants, I’m not picky. But she looks glamorous in her black dress. It brings out the shine in her eyes and makes her brown eyes look even darker. She is a true beauty and it sucks the breath right out of my lungs.

Her dress has a high neckline adorned with lace that fits her curves like a silk glove. It flares at the waist, the flirty satin skirt stretching to the ground. She’s only 5’4”, but the dress gives her the appearance of being taller. She wears a pair of black patent leather heels that accentuate the curve of her leg. Her dress tonight is very simple, but it’s very Bambi.

Her blonde locks waterfall down her back in perfect little spirals that bounce with every step she takes. And she takes many of them as she walks from person to person, shaking hands or issuing orders. She looks perfectly at home running an event. The curve of her smile is charming and alluring, but the women don’t look at her with jealousy because she gives off a motherly vibe. Only I know that beneath that high-necked dress is a sex kitten just waiting to be fucked hard.

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